Sinister Magic: An Urban Fantasy Dragon Series (Death Before Dragons #1) - Lindsay Buroker Page 0,59

wasn’t funny, but magic plucked at my senses. And it wasn’t dwarf-yard-art-enchantment magic.

Wrought-iron bars slid out of holes I hadn’t noticed and clanged into place inches under the trapdoor. I sighed, debating if Chopper could cut through them or the brick walls surrounding me. With enough time, I was sure I could do it, but I sensed the vampire heading in this direction. Somehow, I doubted he would stand patiently by while I hacked at his security system.

I glanced at the time on my phone. I still had fifteen minutes left of the twenty I’d asked Sindari for. He wouldn’t be coming to rescue me any time soon.

15

A rumble came from behind me, and I whirled, Fezzik pointing at the hidden door before it opened.

“Oh dear,” the male figure standing in the tunnel said, eyeing the barrel. “Are you here to rob me? Do I need to raise my hands? What’s the protocol here?”

He was strikingly handsome if also strikingly pale, with black hair pulled back in a bun and a neatly trimmed mustache and goatee. He shifted from eyeing my gun to eyeing my neck—maybe I should have borrowed Dimitri’s cervical collar—but his gaze didn’t linger long. He met my eyes, his brows rising in inquiry.

“I brought you some brochures,” I said.

“Really? I so rarely get old-fashioned mail anymore. It all comes from the interwebs. Would you like to see my laboratory? You’re not one of my fan-girls, are you? They’re usually younger. An astonishing number of teenage girls are interested in making potions and aren’t put off by my fangs.” He flashed those fangs.

I tried not to take his interest in teenage girls as creepy. It was hard.

“I’ll take a tour if you’re offering.” Fourteen minutes until Sindari came looking for me. I didn’t trust Mr. Sexy with his Hungarian accent.

“Certainly. This way, please.” Zoltan bowed and extended an arm toward the tunnel. “Pardon the dust. You came in the back way. This used to be a meat locker.” He glanced up at the bars and made a hook motion with his finger. “Naturally, I have no use for a meat locker.”

“Just a refrigerator for your blood?”

“Chilled blood? What a dreadful thought. I can’t imagine the vampire who would accept such an off-putting thing. The nutrients are most superior, the flavors most nuanced, when the blood is warm and straight from the vein.”

“Uh huh. Do you drink wine?”

“Certainly not.”

“Guess that answers that.” I pointed the gun down the tunnel. “You go first, friend.”

“Ah, yes, the robbery. I forgot. Will you need me to show you to my valuables? I didn’t bring that many with me when I left Europe. It was a tumultuous time back then.” He led me through unlit tunnels, and I was glad for my night-vision charm.

“I’m not robbing you. I’m hoping you can answer a couple of questions. I’ll pay. Also, the brochures are from Nin Chattrakulrak in Seattle.” Sadly, my pronunciation of her last name was even more execrable than my pronunciation of her signature dish. “She makes magical weapons and is branching out into armor and thought you might be interested. Or maybe she thought you’d mention her shop to the teenage girls. I’m not quite sure.”

“Armor? Interesting. I do have various security systems around the premises, which you’ll discover if you shoot me and attempt to take my wealth, but I rarely feel the need to secure my person. Usually, I find that my superior strength serves sufficiently in confrontations.” He looked over his shoulder as he swung open a door and entered a surprisingly well-lit room. “Unless I’m facing someone with a gun full of magical ammunition. Here we are. Welcome to my laboratory.”

Laboratory and video studio, I decided as I stepped inside, eyeing a three-monitor computer, mic, and sound-engineering setup that any internet video star would admire. The bright red lights appeared to be infrared rather than LED or fluorescent. Maybe infrared was safe for sensitive vampire flesh.

The red light gleamed off a huge metal barn door on the wall to the right of us. Was that where he kept his coffin? If so, it was a touch grandiose.

Opposite the computer setup were counters full of condensers, test tubes, flasks, and lots of other chemistry equipment I couldn’t name. Was that a centrifuge? When Nin had said Zoltan was a vampire alchemist, I’d been imagining bags of herbs and mortars and pestles. The lab rats in cages lining one wall were closer to what I’d envisioned. I decided not